Rocky Island Castaways
by akblake
Summary: Their vacation doesn't go quite as planned... Hardison, Eliot, and Parker must make the best of it until someone figures out how to find them.
1. Lost

Three _very_ bedraggled thieves hauled themselves onto the narrow beach, sputtering and utterly drenched. Not twenty minutes ago they had been enjoying themselves on the boat Hardison had rented, and then it had all dropped into chaos- the boat had only appeared seaworthy to their unpracticed eyes and a repair seam burst apart to allow seawater to flood inside. Sooner than they thought possible, the small boat had sunk beneath their feet and left them with the only option of swimming towards the island they'd briefly seen in the distance. Hardison seemed to be the only one in his element as he easily stroked along through the water while Eliot and Parker simply wanted it over.

"So… what now?" Parker asked the biggest question. They were stranded, Nate had no clue where they were, and their submersion in the water was guaranteed to have killed their earbuds. They had to help themselves.

Eliot scooped the clinging hair out of his face and tied the mess back with the hair band which had miraculously stayed on his wrist. "Best way to survive is to find water and shelter, and I think I saw a little waterfall around there," he pointed off to where the small beach turned out of sight to make a bit of a cove. "Don't think we'd want to stay this low, though, as it looks like all this will be under water when the tide rises."

The other two followed his thoughtful gaze and saw that the lower parts of the cliff face did look rather worn away and pocked where the tidewater had dissolved softer rock. "Well then, let's go find this waterfall you thought you saw and then we can worry about something to sleep in. I'm starting to dry off and I don't like the crust of salt and sand on my skin," Parker complained as she brushed at the thin layer of grit. They trooped off to follow the beach around and stopped to stare at the waterfall. It wasn't big, just a narrow stream which fell from what looked like fifty feet up, but the way it broke apart into a refractive mist was beautiful, even their saltwater-sore eyes could appreciate the sight. The biggest problem with it was that it didn't provide them with a stream of water to drink from or wash in, but Parker eagerly stepped into the mist and let it wash off what it could. Eliot and Hardison soon followed her example, knowing that salt left on the skin would chafe and could cause cracked skin. Broken skin out here was the quickest way to invite an infection.

"I don't see a way up this cliff," Hardison commented as he stared up at the sheer face.

Parker joined him in looking. "Pfft, I can climb that!" she scoffed. It wasn't like a glass-clad skyscraper and even had little niches in the rock for her to wedge her hands and feet into as she climbed.

"No, Parker. Neither Hardison nor I can make it up there, and we're not splitting up. Let's just follow the cove on around and see if there's a better way up which all three of us can use," Eliot commanded. He was the one with the most survival training and the other two consciously deferred to his judgment to keep them safe, though Parker did cast a longing look behind her at the cliff as they walked away.

Ten minutes spent walking around the cove and along another piece of beach finally yielded an area which looked to have been part of a rockslide long ago. It had rather sharply-sloping sides, but had grown over with the island's vegetation enough to provide traction and steadying handholds as the three stumbled and groped their way to the top of the cliff. An entire vista opened up before them. Trees shrouded much of what they saw, but they weren't the tropical palm trees always shown on pirate movies. These looked to be hardwoods and pines, with a few stunted bushes growing towards the seaward edge. "Let's head back around and see if we can find the stream that's feeding the waterfall and have a proper wash," Eliot suggested as he again led them on. They pushed their way through the brush and found the stream, sending a pair of wild pigs squealing and grunting in the opposite direction. Eliot perked up at that discovery- if the island had a pig population, then he could hunt and make sure that they had enough meat to survive on until rescued. All three washed their skin and rinsed out their clothes as best they could to get rid of the sea's salt. They had to take care of the only clothes they had.

Hardison stepped back after washing to thoughtfully eye the trees. "You know, if we get enough limbs together I can make a decent shelter," he announced. His words drew the other two over to join him.

"Gotta build it up off the ground to keep out surprises," Eliot commented, "And it needs to face south out of the wind." He wasn't going to argue with Hardison over his claim, they all knew that the man was a genius and if he said that he could make a shelter, none of them would argue.

Parker jumped up to grab a branch and walked hand over hand towards the end, making it droop with her weight. She bounced a few times and it split from the tree with a sharp crack, leaving her holding a fairly long branch in her hands. "Think we can pull down enough of these to make your shelter?" she asked Hardison. He examined the branch's diameter and nodded.

"Yeah, get enough of those and I can start wedging them in. These trees are growing kinda close together and I can use that too, though I wish we had some vines or something," he stated even as he began casting about for a good spot to build on.

Eliot stopped him. "Not here by the stream," he cautioned. When the other two turned curious looks on him, he explained, "You want to build here because you want water, right? Well, the water will also draw animals to it, and any predators this island has will come to where the animals gather."

"Oh," Parker said in a small voice and then she quickly turned to scan the trees as if she expected something to leap out at her. "So where should we put it?"

Eliot led them back from the water until they could still hear it but couldn't see it anymore. That should be enough distance to keep them safe, if they were careful. "Right here should be good," he said.

"Then let's get to work. Parker, you want to pull down some more branches? Eliot, you want to help build?" Hardison asked as found three trees which would work for his purposes.

Hardison looked back as Eliot didn't move. "I thought that while you two worked on setting that up, I could scout out around us- make sure there isn't anything hidden to surprise us, see if I can find any people, and look for food while I'm at it," he explained. The other two thought for a moment and then nodded. "Okay then, come here and let me show you something," Eliot encouraged them to follow him over to a tree. He pulled out the boot knife which he was thankful hadn't been lost, and marked an inverted V into the tree. "I'm going to periodically mark the trees like that as I go, the top point will point in the direction I'm heading. If I don't come back by nightfall, I want you both to secure yourselves as best you can and then follow the markings in the morning. I don't plan to be gone for more than a few hours, but if I get hurt or something happens, you're going to need to find me."

Parker and Hardison swallowed hard as the reality of their situation slapped them in the face. Before, it had seemed like an impromptu camping trip, but the possibility of Eliot getting hurt or disappearing altogether brought home the fact that this wasn't safe at all. They both nodded and examined the mark in greater detail; neither wanted to forget it, just in case. Eliot nodded back and disappeared into the trees.

Three hours later, as the sun was only beginning to kiss the horizon, Eliot tromped back into a changed camp. He dropped his spear and piglet onto the ground where he planned to make a fire and stared. For not having vines to use as lashing and only three hours to have worked in, Hardison had done wonders with the little hut. "How did you get all this done?" he asked in wonder.

Hardison slapped him on the back and grinned. "Parker found a downed tree not far from here and used those branches, then we dragged a couple of big sections of tree over to act as the base for the flooring. Rocks keep them from moving out of alignment," he pointed to where two large logs were situated so that the branches making up the floor could lie on top and sit up off the ground. "It wasn't easy burying the corner posts for the walls, but we managed, and then it was just finding the right branches to make up the walls and the roof" he finished.

"No, man, you did more than manage," Eliot stopped him, "I don't know of many guys who could have pulled this off with just tree limbs and some brush and rocks, so you deserve to be proud of it." The hut didn't look like any proper cabin or house, but given what they had to work with, it could have been far, far worse. This at least looked fairly sturdy, like a strong wind wouldn't blow it over onto them as they slept, and he couldn't find any obvious fault. Hardison had even kept it low, to where they'd have to crouch when inside, which would help with heat conservation if the nights turned cold.

Hardison finally noticed the piglet on the ground and visibly struggled to keep from gagging. It had been dressed already, so there was surprisingly little blood, but the sight still set him off. "Hey, you found dinner," he commented, trying to keep the atmosphere light while trying to avoid looking at the thing.

"Ooh, piglet! I bet it'll be tender and juicy," Parker enthused as she crouched down to poke at the little body. She completely missed the look exchanged behind her back.

Eliot moved to shoo her away and directed her to start dragging short lengths of wood over while he prepared the area for a fire. "Biggest question is how we're going to start a fire," he commented as he worked.

"Nah, I got this, seen it on TV- we can rub sticks together until the friction causes them to burn," Hardison proudly stated, only to be deflated by Eliot's words.

"You got any idea how long that would take? You'd be at it for hours!" Eliot sniped, and the two were soon bickering. Parker finished dragging over all the wood she thought they'd need and watched them for a minute before rolling her eyes.

She went and picked up something shiny off a rock where she'd had it drying out and threw it at Eliot's head. "How about just using this?"

The bickering immediately stopped as they got a good look at the object, and both turned stunned looks at her. "Woman, where did you get a lighter out here?" Hardison demanded, trying to take it from Eliot's hands and failing miserably.

"I always carry a lighter," she stated as if it was obvious. "You never know when you'll need to start a fire to cause a distraction or destroy evidence. Its fuel has a watertight seal and I just had to wait for the flint to dry; you gotta flip the little lever, though, or it won't feed any fuel through," Parker instructed Eliot as he fumbled with the small lighter. "Oh, Hardison, you better tell him too," she remembered.

"Tell me what?" Eliot grunted as he finally got the little lighter to cooperate and coaxed a small flame to life. He worked on feeding it bits he broke off of a branch; too much wood too fast would only smother it, these things had to be done slowly.

Hardison dithered for a bit, unsure how best to explain. "Well, you know that I always wear my earbud even when we're not working," he paused for Eliot's nod to indicate that he was still following. "I was testing a new prototype, version eleven, which is supposed to be waterproof. I even left it in a glass of water overnight and it worked just fine after, but apparently being submerged in saltwater killed the voice transmission. I can't use that to call for help, but the GPS locator in it is self-contained and still has a light. If Nate can find my instruction manual, he can find us and get us out of here," Hardison finished in a rush.

Eliot sat and absorbed the information. "And just where is this instruction manual that he's supposed to find? You better not have hidden it somewhere!"

"Not at all," Hardison defended himself. "I left it on his bookshelf, out in plain sight, and even labeled it 'How to Use Hardison's Equipment' just in case y'all ever needed it."

Parker chimed in, "Yeah, but you're expecting Nate to notice that we're missing, and also notice that the manual is there. If we're depending on him to do all of that, we could be here for _weeks_!"

"But if he finds it, we could be rescued in just days," Hardison rebutted even though his heart wasn't in it. None of them really believed that Nate would remember that they would be due back tomorrow or that he'd find the manual- plain sight was the best place to hide something as so few people ever paid attention to what they saw every day.

By this time the fire had built up enough to nibble at the larger logs, and so Eliot showed Parker how to skewer the piglet while he set up the forked branches to hold the skewer. Hardison went to find decently flat rocks to use for plates while the two worked on dinner. He came back with three small eggs tucked in his pocket as well as the rocks held in his arms.

"Hey, look what I found," he crowed as he dropped the rocks by the fire and gently pulled out the eggs. "Don't know what laid them, but they have a hard shell and should be good eating."

Parker grabbed an egg and held it up to the fire, using its light to better examine the egg's shell in the fading sunlight. "Looks like a bird's egg, not a turtle's or snake's," she proclaimed and caught Eliot's smirk as she looked back up. "What? It's just common sense," Parker challenged.

Eliot held up his hands, "Not meaning anything, just surprised that you'd think of a turtle as most don't."

Parker squinted at him before she allowed his explanation to stand. She knew things, too, even if it wasn't how to build a hut or kill a pig. She grabbed the other two eggs and tucked them into the small amount of ash the fire had managed to make so far, keeping them away from the flames yet close enough that they'd cook through. They should be done by the time the piglet was, and they all could use the extra protein; they had all passed hungry hours ago and needed a good meal.

Soon the smell of pork filled the air and although unseasoned at all it caused their mouths to water in anticipation. The piglet's skin crackled and split in the heat, and fatty juices ran down to sizzle in the flames as Eliot carefully rotated the skewer to keep from burning it. Finally it was done. Eliot pulled the piglet off the skewer and handed Hardison the soiled skewer to wash in the stream while he divided the meat and Parker dug out the cooked eggs. By the time he returned, they had a small feast on each of the rocks and each settled in to eat every morsel. The pork wasn't as good as they were used to, and the eggs had a strong flavor from whatever bird had laid them, but their bodies needed the fuel and no one complained.

They sat in silence, listening to the frogs in their hidden places chirrup as the night birds twittered. The sun had gone down a while ago, but there was still a glow on the horizon, like a fire just out of sight. Hardison eventually stood to drag more wood over to the fire so that Eliot could bank it for the night. The area he'd cleaned out would keep the fire contained, as it was stripped to the bare dirt, and if banked right it would keep alive all night long and save on the lighter's fuel. Parker headed in to the little hut ahead of the boys and made sure that the long grasses she'd gathered from the thin strip between trees and cliff edge were evenly spread. Even though she and Hardison had spread leaves and smaller branches in between the floor's poles, the grasses would help provide a measure of cushioning between their bodies and the wood, and they brought a sweet smell to the hut. Eliot and Hardison soon joined her and they huddled together, for once leaving aside their dislike of contact in the very human need for comfort, both physical and psychological. Today had been an ordeal and even though they lived through it, their systems were still processing the shock.


	2. Surviving

Two weeks had passed and the three thieves had settled into their routines. Hardison's shelter had held up admirably; the last storm ended up leaking through the roof in several places, but he'd creatively applied a thin coating of the island's clay to it and so far it hadn't leaked again in the light rains they'd had. Every morning they'd rise, pull out the bedding they'd slept on, and use it to feed the night's fire back to life before giving it larger branches they'd pulled out of the trees. With all three of them hanging off the end they could easily snap off branches several inches in diameter and work to break them into manageable pieces. After getting the fire set up, they split up to find what food they could.

Parker headed towards a group of pine trees while the boys went down to the water. She'd surprised them with her knowledge of an unlikely food source- inside pinecones. Using Eliot's outer shirt which she'd borrowed, Parker filled it with as many of the fallen pinecones as she could and trekked back to camp. She wasn't nervous about being in the trees now, as Eliot had assured her that he hadn't found a single sign of any predator larger than a fox, though she would have to remain wary about the pigs. A startled wild pig could turn violent, he'd explained, and they had dangerously large tusks. None of them could afford an injury of any kind, especially a severe mauling from an angry pig. Parker unloaded the pinecones by their fire and carefully placed them on the ring of large rocks Hardison had brought up for this purpose. There they would dry out in the fire's heat and the scales would open, exposing the seeds hidden inside which she could crack open for the edible pine nuts. Though they'd spoil in a couple of days if not eaten, they were full of the fats and protein which all three desperately needed- they certainly couldn't have what Eliot called a "balanced diet" out here, though Parker always thought he was a little cracked in the head when he went on about the team's eating habits.

At the beach, Eliot and Hardison were out in the ocean. Eliot was slowly wading in the shallows, ready to spear any fish unwary enough to stay still for a few seconds. He'd never had to use a spear in water and was still trying to adapt to the distortion caused by the water, which caused him to miss more than he hit. His aim was improving, though, and he used that bit of encouragement to help salve his anger at their utter helplessness. They were marginally safe where they were, but the slightest problem could end up killing all three of them; infection, storms, illness… he was horrifyingly familiar with all the ways this could go wrong. Eliot looked up at the sound of footsteps in the sand and nodded at Parker as she made herself comfortable on the small beach; with her food gathering done, it looked like she wanted to do a little sunbathing. He turned back to patiently waiting for fish as he heard Hardison surface somewhere behind him.

Even though he didn't get to indulge very often Hardison loved to swim. It was one of the few things his Nana could afford, a membership at their local Y, and she'd always encouraged his swimming as it kept him off the streets and away from the gangs. Hardison was spending a good portion of this morning diving down to pry up shellfish with a stick he'd crafted just for the task. Eliot had explained what the things were at one point, but Hardison hadn't paid much attention beyond 'these are edible' to hear whether they were a clam, oyster, or mussel. His seafood was pretty much limited to the bag of frozen fried fish he kept in Nate's freezer. Hardison surfaced and went to dump his catch, stowed in his shirt that he'd folded into a pouch, and froze at the sight that met his eyes. Parker was lying on the beach, sunbathing, topless. He couldn't help but stare and didn't pay any attention to Eliot's approach until the man moved in front of him and broke his line of sight.

"Not polite to stare," Eliot quietly spoke, keeping the conversation low enough not to carry across the beach to Parker's ears.

Hardison swallowed a few times to moisten his mouth. "But she's… and I… it ain't right!" he babbled. He could feel his face heat up with embarrassment.

Eliot shook his head, "No, she's Parker, which means that she doesn't think a thing about showing skin- you already know that." He sighed at having to explain this to Hardison of all people. "Look, the thing about women is that if they're comfortable enough to show like that, then it's okay to look and appreciate. It's like putting a fine painting on the wall… you want people to enjoy the view. Staring, however, is just plain rude and will make her uncomfortable after a while." He watched Hardison closely to make sure that he got the point.

"Okay, so I look and appreciate, but don't stare… that's harder than it sounds!" Hardison was still flustered and decided to go diving again even if he had already collected more than they could eat today. Parker had changed in front of him several times, but his own modesty had kept his eyes firmly in the opposite direction; if she planned to take up topless sunbathing, however, he was going to have a bit of a problem until he adjusted to the sight.

Eliot's lips twitched with a suppressed laugh. "I'm sure it is," he managed before he had to walk away or risk laughing in Hardison's face. He'd been there before, years ago, before he'd learned how to relax around women and just enjoy them for the wonderful creatures they were. Parker's partial nudity only made him roll his eyes and think of the topless beaches he'd frequented in France during… well, better left unsaid what he was actually doing in the country. The statute of limitations may not have fully run out on some of the charges yet. Hardison's lack of composure, however, was highly amusing to watch.

As the sun climbed higher into mid-morning, Parker abandoned her sunbathing and retreated up to wash in the stream before the boys finished. Once she washed herself and her clothing, very carefully to avoid damaging the cloth that they couldn't replace, she headed back to camp to set up for Eliot and Hardison's catches. Her pinecones, now ready to be broken open, were swept into a small pile for Hardison to work on later; she brought out the sticks they'd taken to using for roasting and made sure that everything was clean. With seafood, one couldn't be too careful, and none of them could afford food poisoning from a poorly-cleaned roasting spit.

Hardison, still in only his boxers from swimming, dumped his load of shellfish on the ground where Parker indicated and headed to the stream to wash up. He exchanged boxers for his jeans and then carefully washed the salt and sand out of his boxers and the shirt he'd used as a carry bag. Eliot joined him a few minutes later to do his own washing. "You going to go exploring again this afternoon?" Hardison asked after Eliot had settled into washing his own boxers-turned-swim trunks.

"Yeah, I thought I should; maybe see if I can find another pig to bring back- the ones around here know to avoid this area," Eliot thoughtfully replied as he finished washing and wrung the water from his washing. They'd both lay their damp clothes out to dry a little later, once they'd finished their lunch.

Parker had the fish already on the roasting spit, Eliot having cleaned and scaled them down at the beach, and was nearly done with lining up the opened shellfish on the same rocks her pinecones had occupied earlier. They'd cook in the indirect heat and serve as the second course after they ate the fish, the pine nuts were both dessert of a kind and a snack that they'd munch on during the day. "Hey Hardison," she greeted the returning men, "I put the pinecones over there for you to work on them." Parker indicated the area near their hut that had become somewhat of a work area. She didn't want the shells and mess in the open area of the camp- they all went barefoot for comfort when they weren't leaving its safe confines. Parker did her best to keep the area clear of anything sharp or hard as she didn't like unexpectedly stepping on a sharp twig.

A few hours later, they had lunch cleared out and had kept a few well-cooked pieces to make a small dinner. Parker and Hardison had left to collect more firewood while Eliot went exploring towards what he figured was the center of the small island. The two worked diligently until they had a good number of branches on the ground which they divided and pulled to the camp- they'd break them down as needed rather than do it all at once and wear themselves out. Parker left Hardison to arrange the branches however he wanted and instead trekked along the cliff's edge to find suitable long grass to bring back for their bedding. Whatever the grass was, it dried out quickly and the second night they tried to sleep on it all three had found out very quickly that it prickled and poked enough to keep them awake. Ever since then they made sure to bring in fresh bedding and use the old as fuel for the fire.

So far, they hadn't seen many bugs, mostly flies and a few bees pollinating what Eliot claimed were blackberry bushes. Neither Parker no Hardison could guess what they were, other than a major pain as the bushes had wickedly sharp thorns and only white flowers so far. They all desperately hoped that they wouldn't still be there to see what kind of fruit developed; if they wanted blackberries, they agreed that the best way to get them was at the store, back in civilization. Their island life wasn't horrible, as they'd first expected, but all three of them wanted to be back where their skills could be of use, back with the rest of the team that had become their family. They all chafed under the forced inactivity that limited food imposed.

Eliot returned that evening with news. "I found an old airstrip," he said, and had to quiet the others' immediate questioning. "It's far too old to be used now, broken up and grown over, but it had a small outbuilding beside it at one time. Don't know what it was used for as it looks like it was here as we're outside of the normal drug trafficking areas and this place doesn't look like it belonged to a private owner." Eliot pulled out a handful of greenery that he'd carefully stowed in his pockets. "The building also had what looked like a small garden, and some of it still survived. This is fennel, tastes like licorice, this is a wild mint," he pulled out a small root from another pocket, "and this is alumroot. Found it growing in and on the remains of the outbuilding, and it's medicinal- in the time before Tylenol and Neosporin, anyone could take this root, pound it into a wet mash, and use it in a poultice for sores or sprains. I figure it's the best we're going to get as I haven't seen any of the other herbs I've used before."

Hardison and Parker nodded; Eliot hadn't always worked in places where he could get immediate medical aid when he was injured, so knowing natural remedies would be safer than showing up at a hospital in some foreign country where he had a price on his head. "I think I know what you found," Hardison spoke thoughtfully. "These islands were used to keep a watch for enemy planes during World War II, and from the sounds of it, you found an airstrip and soldier barracks leftover from it. After the war, they were all abandoned until the Cold War, when we used them as an early warning system for Russian attack. Once that wound down, they were all abandoned and California took the islands as part of their park system." He grinned at the impressed looks on both Parker and Eliot's faces. "What, I can't watch a documentary as I hack?" he asked, and ducked their retaliatory swats.

They all settled down for a couple handfuls of pine nuts and their leftovers from lunch. "If you could have anything you wanted to eat right now, what would it be?" Hardison asked as he mournfully stared at his scant meal. "I know I'd love to have my Nana's jambalaya- don't know how she made it, but I still haven't found any as good as hers and she always made it as comfort food when one of us was feeling down."

"Any food?" Eliot asked as he thought. "I think I'd want a porterhouse steak with steamed vegetables and apple pie for dessert. Living off seafood is okay, but when we get off of this island, I don't want to look at another fish for a good long time!"

Parker shrugged when they turned to look at her. "I don't have a favorite food, but I guess I'd like to have a bowl of cereal. Always just had to eat what I could get and personally, I hate seafood, but it's what we can get. Learned the trick with the pinecones when I was living in Central Park before Archie took me in," she explained and received baffled looks in return. Food was food, she ate it to keep from being hungry, but beyond that it didn't matter much.

The three cleaned up after their dinner, still lamenting the fact that they didn't have anything to carry or store water in, and settled down to play an odd game that they'd invented. Each had a pile of short twigs and smooth pebbles in their possession. Pebbles acted as connectors between twigs when laid on the ground, and it played quite a bit like dominoes, except that they weren't keeping score or winning anything. They just enjoyed the relaxation and creativity of seeing what odd shapes they could make, as each could only lay down either a pebble or a twig during their turn. Last night they'd collaborated and created a somewhat lopsided giraffe, but this time they ended up with an ornate geometric design instead. Parker cleaned up their playing materials as Eliot and Hardison worked to bank their fire for the night, and then all three crawled into the hut to sleep. By now, no one even paid attention when Parker used them as her mattress; she wasn't very heavy, and the two guys had gotten used to it. At least she didn't elbow or kick in her sleep when she slept across them, as opposed to the one time they tried to force her to sleep on the bedding.


	3. Found

Hardison was the first to notice. His experimental earbud had a tiny little diode which flashed when its GPS system was being accessed, and this morning it was blinking for all it was worth. Not believing it, he carried it out to show both Parker and Eliot, and yes the light was blinking.

"So, does that mean that we're getting out of here soon?" Parker eagerly asked, trying not to jump around with glee. After six weeks on this island, she was more than ready to leave. _Way_ beyond ready to leave.

Eliot simply stared at him intently and didn't dare to hope yet.

"Well, it means that my computer system is accessing its GPS locator, and the only way for that to happen is for someone to cue up the program. Presumably it's Nate, hopefully it's Nate, but I have no way to tell. With the voice transmission circuits shorted out by the seawater, the GPS system is the only one running off the battery, so I guess that's the best thing that could have happened- if both were running, it would have died weeks ago." They all sobered at the reminder of their dumb luck. They'd actually been incredibly lucky that he'd been testing the earbud in the first place, as all other versions shorted out immediately in water, fresh or salt.

"What next?" Parker asked. Her excitement had waned a bit at the reminder, but couldn't be fully extinguished.

Hardison shrugged. "We wait. Nothing else we can do, I guess. Depending on how far he reads in the manual, he could be here in a day, or in a week." Even Eliot had to relax at the thought that they'd be out of there soon.

"Come on, we still got food to collect- don't want to starve before they find us," Eliot prompted them into motion.

Parker waited until she was alone before she skipped as she picked pinecones. Even the birds seemed to chirp along to the song in her heart, 'we're going home, we're going home, we're going home'. She brought her catch back to camp and stopped to really look at it. Six weeks of improvements by Hardison saw the camp change from a basic hut to a rather sturdy little waterproof shelter. Their campfire had slowly been turned into a proper fire pit, complete with better sticks to use for roasting fish or a piglet. They'd turned a ramshackle setup into a respectable camp, a home of sorts, and would soon be leaving it. As happy as that thought made her, Parker felt a bit sad at the answering thought that they'd be leaving behind the way of life that they'd formed. All three worked as a unit, each with their separate areas of responsibility, and even though they fought and yelled at times, they still looked after each other.

At the same time, Hardison and Eliot were contemplating the same feelings. Out there, where they desperately wanted to be, they each had their own homes, their own niches in life. Sure they socialized, more than they wanted to at times given Sophie's insane love of acting, but they didn't have the same level of contact that they did now. The two shared a look of mixed sadness and elation as they carried their catch back for Parker to look after while they washed up.

After lunch, Hardison trekked back down to the beach to find enough rock fallen from the cliff face to make a decent firebreak up on the top of the cliff. It was reasonably far from the tree line, and despite having faith in his own gadget, he and the others felt that it couldn't hurt to also have a signal fire. Eliot and Parker circled around the trees, looking for what he termed the "right kind of wood" which would make a thick smoke when burned. The prevailing winds in the area tended to blow across their camp and out to sea, meaning that the smoke should stay safely away from their sleeping space.

"Here, you want to light it?" Eliot asked as he offered Hardison the lighter. They'd only used it one other time, when a massive rain storm had drowned their fire before it could be banked, and it was still full of fuel.

Hardison accepted the lighter and applied it the piled wood. He didn't step back in time, though, and caught a face full of the thick smoke as the wood and grasses quickly caught fire. His coughing and hacking set off Eliot and Parker, and they laughed even as he muttered threats between coughs. He still let them help him back to the stream where he could wash his face and rinse out his mouth, feeling much better after a good drink. Given that they wouldn't have too much longer to wait, at most a handful of days, they all agreed to stick close to camp and just relax. They had food and shelter, so they didn't have to truly worry about anything.

Two days later, it was Parker who noticed the ship on the horizon during her new habit of walking along the cliff's edge. Her yelling brought Hardison and Eliot running, and they all stared, unwilling to get their hopes up until they confirmed that the ship was truly headed in their direction. It zeroed in on them unerringly and the three raced down to meet it at the beach. Two familiar forms stood in the small boat which detached from the ship and grounded on the beach.

"Nate, Sophie!" Parker cried and flung herself at them, squeezing hard to prove to herself that they weren't an illusion. Hers weren't the only cheeks wet with tears as Sophie was sniffling as she crushed Parker in a return hug.

Hardison sauntered up, refusing to make a display like Parker's even though he wanted to join in. "Knew y'all would come, but why'd it take six weeks?" he poked at Nate, expecting laughter and ending up quite confused as Nate simply looked embarrassed.

"Nate didn't find your manual, Hardison," Sophie laughingly explained, "I did. I was with my sister in England, remember? Didn't get back until three days ago, and after he explained what was going on I hit him in the head with the manual. Idiot didn't even call me when you went missing, just started calling the Coast Guard and heaven only knows how many other agencies." Her fond look took any insult out of her words.

Nate pulled himself up indignantly. "I wasn't going to bother you when you were looking after family. And besides, I thought that they may have decided to stay longer… yeah, didn't really think so," he wound down at seeing three identical flat looks aimed at him. They may have extended their vacations on a whim, but at least one of them would have called to let him know that they would be back later than planned. He just hadn't really considered that in his worry over their disappearance. "I'm sorry, guys." He apologized and got the satisfaction of shocking all four people standing on the beach. Nate didn't apologize often, or ever, really, but he certainly owed these three one.

"Come along, you three. I may be eager to see you, but you stink, horribly, and I'd rather see you after you've showered and changed clothes. Proper little savages, you've become!" Sophie joked as she shepherded everyone into the boat for the crew to bring them back to the ship. One of the benefits to owning such a large pleasure yacht was that she could leave all the actual running of it to her crew and just enjoy her property.

After bathing and a fresh change of clothing, Eliot and Hardison gratefully used the shaving kits they were provided. Fresh-faced, they joined everyone in what Sophie insisted in calling the Salon. She had her ship's medic on hand to check each of them out, and all three vehemently refused the suggestion of going to a hospital for a proper health check. Instead, they negotiated to allow him to draw blood and send it off to the lab for testing- some islands had vicious parasites, and they hadn't been able to sterilize the water before drinking it. Dinner that night was a very plain and light fare for the three castaways, while Nate and Sophie enjoyed a full meal. They would have to slowly reaccustom themselves to real food to avoid making themselves ill.

Within a day, they were all back home in Boston, sleeping in their own beds, and feeling quite out of sorts. The city was far louder than the island they'd gotten used to, and their old routines no longer applied. They felt adrift.

Eliot frowned briefly as his mediation was interrupted by a knock at the door. When he checked the security display before opening the door, Parker was standing there, sticking her tongue out at the camera. "What are you doing here?" he greeted as he opened the door to let her in. Eliot kind of liked that no one came over to his house- anytime he cooked for everyone, or they had a group thing, it was always over at Nate's apartment. His little house was his refuge, although right now it simply felt echoingly empty.

Rather than be taken aback by Eliot's curt question, Parker instead tried to explain. "I was at home, and it was good, but wrong. It felt… I don't know, like something was missing. So I stopped at the store and got some food, and thought that maybe you'd cook lunch?" she held up her grocery bag as an offering. Parker couldn't really put into words the disquiet she'd felt being alone at home, but from the quickly-hidden relief on Eliot's face he must have felt the same.

"Come on," Eliot invited as he took the bag and headed into the kitchen. Another knock at the door saw them turn to each other with an amused look- they could easily guess who was on the other side.

Eliot let Hardison in while Parker made herself comfortable on the sofa. He too carried a grocery bag, and Eliot cut him off before he could start his own explanation. "Couldn't stand being alone?" he asked.

"Yeah, just felt wrong. Guess we all had the same feeling," Hardison commented and grinned when the other two nodded. He and Parker tagged along as Eliot carried the two bags into the kitchen to start lunch. They'd both bought chicken and pasta, so there was more than enough for a simple Alfredo, which was the richest dish that they could stand so far.

Eliot focused on cooking as the other two rambled on about how clingy Sophie was being so far, and how skittish around them Nate was. The man had believed that he'd lost the three of them, which had cut deep, and now that he'd found them alive and well, if a bit skinnier than they'd left, he was still working through his emotions. Eliot knew that he'd come around fairly soon, just as he knew that Sophie would stop clinging onto them once she'd assured herself that they were just fine.

"So… can we do this again? Like a regular thing, I mean," Parker hesitantly asked the question and Hardison, with a giant mouthful of pasta, simply nodded his head to indicate that he had the same question.

Eliot sighed. It was his house that they'd be piling into, he wouldn't cook at Hardison's or Parker's as there was no telling if either had suitable cookware, but he couldn't really think up a single complaint. "Yeah, we can," he agreed and watched their faces light up. "But, everyone sleeps in their own beds at night- I'm sick of sleeping with y'all!"

All three broke down in laughter, happiness and relief hitting them all, and agreed that sleeping in their own beds, alone, was far better than sleeping on grass-covered logs with each other. Now they truly felt found- their fears of having to go back to their solitary routines weren't going to come true, and they'd found a way to keep the close companionship they'd developed together. Though, none of the three wanted to even _hear_ about an ocean, beach, or island again for the next several years. Six weeks stranded on one were more than enough, thank you very much!

* * *

**A/N: Based on the Channel Islands off the coast of California, though not on one specific island. The history Hardison gave in chapter two is actually accurate- they were used as bases during both WWII and the Cold War until better electronic surveillance made them obsolete and they were abandoned. Hope you all enjoyed this mostly light-hearted read, and major thanks to Brina for poking at me until I took an idea I'd had after reading a drabble of hers and wrote a full fic out of it. Blame this insanity on her, really ;) Seriously though, thank you everyone!**


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